Why We Didn't Work
by Caliente
Summary: one-shot vignette set during season eight - Jackie attempts to rationalize why her relationship with Hyde ultimately failed and Hyde's less than zen reaction to said rationale. –– WARNING: not a happy J/H ending


**Author's Note: **'Kay, so I figured I'd try my hand at a new fandom 'cause... I'm weird like that. Anyway, this is just… something weird I cooked up while in driving school. I thought Jackie might just be neurotic enough to list why she and Hyde failed. And, maybe, they'd realize some stuff and junk. I think it's cute, if not a bit on the angsty side and it doesn't have a happy (or, really, definite) ending. But I don't hate it, so I figured I'd post it. Simple as that. Oh yeah, and writing is in _italics_ 'cause I felt like it. I think that's it.  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of Fox or whoever owns That 70's Show. I do not own them and am simply borrowing for my purposes. Please don't sue.

**Why We Didn't Work  
**by, Caliente  
_  
_

_Why We Didn't Work_  
_1. We have nothing in common.  
2. We hate each other.  
3. We fight all the time.  
4. We have trust issues.  
5. We…_

I don't know what we are.

I mean, we don't have anything in common. At least, not on the surface. But, if you look harder, deeper inside… you can see that we do. We understand each other. Like, with family and abandonment and all those sorts of things. Things that other people don't understand.

Maybe we do hate each other but, if that's really true, then why do we like kissing each other so much? I'm serious. And… why do I actually like things about you? Things I shouldn't like. Things I wouldn't like if it was anybody else. Anybody that wasn't you.

Hell, even the fighting isn't that bad. I mean, the fighting's bad but the making up… that's good. And, even though a lot of our arguments were about the future, I still felt… satisfied with our relationship. Most of the time, anyway. Satisfied in ways I'd never known before.

In the end, it was the trust that got me. Got you. Got _us_. Neither of us could ever really get past it. Oh, sure, we thought we did. But… there was always something. Usually, unfortunately, Michael-centric. One of us would mess up and hurt the other one and then… and then neither of us would know what to do.

How many times can you apologize before it looses meaning? How many times can you say, "I love you," before it's just words? How many times can we mess it up before we call it quits? Too many questions, not enough answers. We never had enough answers.

So… why didn't we work. Why really? I couldn't say. Maybe it was one of the things. Maybe it was a combination of all three. Maybe it was a mistake – a fluke. Maybe we never worked. Maybe we always did and the fact that we're not together now is the fluke. I don't know…

All I know is that I wish we had worked. Because when I was with you… everything was different without anything changing. It was magical and beautiful and all these things that you'd probably roll your eyes out and I'd still love it because that's so _you_. And, no matter what I try, I can't help but love you…

But it's time to make some changes. Choices. Things can't stay the way they are. They just… can't.

* * *

Hyde entered his basement room, lifting his glasses and rubbing his eyes. It'd been a long day at the record store and would probably be an even longer night with Samantha. That second thought had him smirking, just a little. Being married… it didn't suck.

A sheet of notebook paper lying on his pillow caught his eye and he picked it up. At first he'd thought it a note from Sam (Could she even write? Eh, who cared?) but the slender and elegant writing on it was all too familiar. Jackie.

_Why We Didn't Work_  
_1. We have nothing in common.  
2. We hate each other.  
3. We fight all the time.  
4. We have trust issues.  
5. We…_

_No. Scratch that.  
1. Sam_

Hyde put the paper down, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He stared at it for a long moment before starting to crumple it. Whatever, right? Zen. It didn't matter. None of that mattered. He was so focused on his own thinking, he almost missed what was written on the back.

_ That's the problem Steven. We do work. We always did. Long before anything ever happened between us, we worked. And it only grew – as lovers, as friends, as companions… we just worked. We probably always would've worked. Except, well, you know._

_I left this note with her consent. I guess it's my way of letting you know that I still love and believe in you. That I always will. And, also, that I've decided to move back to Chicago. They agreed to give me my old job back after I explained the situation._

_So, this is good-bye. You can tell Sam that too. I'm sure she'll be thrilled. Donna and Fez already know – she's taking my place in his apartment. Oh, could you tell Mr. and Mrs. Foreman for me, please? And let them know I appreciated everything they did for me. Consider it my last request.  
_

_Thanks,  
Jackie_

Blinking a few times as he reread the message, Hyde wasn't sure what to make of it. He carefully straightened the edges of the paper he'd tried to crumple and stared at it for what felt like a very long time. Just… trying to figure out what it was he thought.

Then, he folded it neatly and stuck it into the top drawer of his rarely used desk. What he needed the damn thing for, he didn't know. But it seemed the place to put something like that. A "Dear John" note that wasn't. Or… whatever.

It would be a while, he figured, until he knew what to do with the note. And the twenty million other things he'd had to put in the desk too because they reminded him of Jackie. God, he felt like a girl. But he just couldn't stand being with Sam and having anything to remind him of her. He just… couldn't.

He'd figure it out eventually. Time and Zen usually did the trick. And, if that didn't, he could always get really, really drunk. (Of course, the last time he did that, he ended up with a wife, so maybe he'd make that a last resort.) For now, though, the drawer. The rest… would come when it came.

Life… it was just kinda like that.


End file.
